


Excuse Me While I Facepalm [My Life Is a Comedy of Errors]

by BewareTheIdes15



Series: Comicbook Geek!AU [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, College, Geek Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-26
Updated: 2011-06-26
Packaged: 2017-10-20 18:17:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BewareTheIdes15/pseuds/BewareTheIdes15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when Jensen thinks he can't make a bigger idiot out of himself in front of Jared, he ascends to new heights of idiocy. Except, it turns out that maybe Jared kinda likes that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Excuse Me While I Facepalm [My Life Is a Comedy of Errors]

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Thinking of You [With Pencil In Hand].   
> For the unindoctrinated, Daken is an omni-sexual character in the Marvel Comics universe (yes, I made Jensen a Marvel fanboy, gotta stick to my roots). Also, the glittery Venom shirt is real; my boyfriend owns and wears it, without the viable excuse of being gay.

Jensen’s flaked out on his bed, staring at the ceiling like the solutions to his many-fold problems are going to bloom forth from the popcorn-textured constellations. God, this sucks. Why can’t he just be cool? Why can’t he just be calm? Hell, why can’t he just function on some basic level like a normal human being and not completely lose his voice when the guy of his deluded little dreams smiles at him. Just why?

And why – why, why, whywhywhy – had he given Jared that stupid drawing?

Sure, his low-grade obsession had been getting kind of ridiculous, and they certainly couldn’t go on the way they had been for the rest of forever – Jensen’s only got two more years of school left and at the rate they were going he had a better chance of transforming into a magical, talking fire hydrant than of asking Jared out on a date – but that still didn’t make the drawing a good idea.

It wasn’t even supposed to be for Jared, it was just, like, Jensen’s crib notes so he could maybe finally say something coherent when Jared asked him how he was doing. And then Jared had looked at him, and then Jared had _touched_ him, and Jensen’s brain had gone and turned into a chia pet or something equally useless.

And then he’d run; you know, like you do when the guy you’ve spent months – months! – fantasizing about finally finds out that you’re alive. Shit like this never happens to Chris.

Jensen sprawls out dejectedly as far as the queen-sized mattress will allow, comics flapping in protest as his legs knock them off of the coverlet. He makes a mental note to apologize to Daken later – that’s about as close to some guy on guy action as he’s likely to get in the near future, so he’d better play nice.

What was he thinking!? Gay or not there’s no way that a guy like Jared would ever be into someone like Jensen. He’s- he’s like a Greek god or something; a gift bestowed from the heavens to grace the world with light and beauty and Jensen just happens to be lucky enough that the guy works in a service field so he has to occasionally smile at Jensen.

Alright, maybe he’s being a little dramatic, but it’s mostly true. Jared’s sweet and outgoing and popular and he can stand up on stage and make cheesy crap-dialogue sound like poetry and, oh yeah, is also like the hottest creature Jensen’s ever seen – in real life or pictures. And Jensen’s the creepy guy who sits in the back of his classes and doodles in his notebooks; who went to every single performance of the spring production because Jared had the lead role; who started frequenting an off-campus bookstore just because Jared happens to work there and thus, has to occasionally look at Jensen when he’s buying something – yes, it’s that sad. Jensen’s the guy who only talks to two people on a regular basis, both of whom have been his roommates for over a year, and even then he still gets nervous and tongue tied. Not to mention the glasses and the freckles and the pouty, girl-lips and the stupid bow legs and just… yeah, that was never going to happen. Jared would have to be mentally unbalanced to even consider spending time with Jensen, much less dating him and doing the many – _many_ – dirty things he’s spent far too many hours contemplating.

Jensen knows all of this, which means, by rights, he ought to have been smart enough to leave it alone. But no, Jensen just had go and ruin the single shining moment of goodness in his week by letting Jared see that damn drawing and now things are going to be awkward and he’s going to have to go back to making do with the campus bookstore and it’s woeful lack of Jared. Because Jensen’s a moron.

Life is filled with suckage.

There’s a knock at the front door and Jensen’s impulse to just let whatever girl it is looking for Chris fuck off and think nobody’s home is outweighed by the small consolation that it might be a homicidal maniac here to put him out of his misery.

He’s wrong on both counts actually, he discovers as he perturbedly yanks open the front door, since Jared is very clearly not a girl, nor does he appear to be a homicidal maniac. Jensen’s fairly certain he just swallowed something important; possibly his lungs.

“Hi,” Jared says, smile making his dimples appear and several organs that Jensen’s sure are not supposed to flutter suddenly develop wings and try to fly away.

Jensen manages to open his mouth and strain out a wordless sound in reply. Oh God, just why?

Jared laughs low and maybe a little breathless, a big, beautiful hand coming up to card through his own silky waves. Or, at least, they look silky; Jensen imagines they would be silky. He would happily volunteer to be Jared’s life-long hair-washer just to find out. You know, except that volunteering would require talking, which is apparently outside of Jensen’s physical capability. C’mon mouth!

“Um,” Jared starts digging through his front pocket for something, teeth dragging across his bottom lip and really? Unf! Maybe Jared _is_ trying to kill him; he’s certainly being creative about it. “You, uh-“ Jared fishes out a slightly crumpled wad of bills and coins, tiny in his massive palm, “You forgot your change earlier.”

Oh. Right. Earlier.

So this is the end, huh? Well, at least Jared’s decent enough to come over and do it in person – of course he’s decent enough, he’s fucking perfect, he probably even feels bad that Jensen’s never going to be able to use the front door again because of the traumatic flashbacks of being let down gently here. Jensen’s suddenly glad he left his glasses back by the bed; he honestly doesn’t need to see this massacre in HD.

“T-thanks,” Jensen miraculously stutters out. Hey, if Jared can be civil about this, then so can Jensen. He’ll just hold off on the open weeping until he’s safely locked in his room for the next several days.

“You’re welcome,” Jared rearranges his hair again and rolls his lips between his teeth. Now that’s just cruel.

If you offered him a million dollars, Jensen still couldn’t explain how it happens; like his mind just somehow blocked out the couple of seconds between Jared standing there on the porch, smiling softly at his shoes and Jared’s hand cradled around the back of Jensen’s head, his lips tender but unyielding against Jensen’s own. He figures those weren’t very important seconds anyway.

Jared’s mouth is moving very softly, just barely catching at Jensen’s lower lip like he’s trying to coax Jensen into doing something. And yes, doing something, wouldn’t that be a fine plan? The very tip of Jared’s sin-slick tongue teases Jensen’s lip and that’s… that’s… oh!

All at once Jensen’s body decides to get with the program and launches itself at Jared. Luckily, Jared’s a big, strapping guy – Jensen tries not to shiver all over at the thought, and kind of, mostly fails – so they don’t end up tumbling all over the front porch as Jensen’s hands get tangled up in Jared’s hair – yes! Silky! – and one of Jensen’s legs hitches itself up on Jared’s hip, letting the larger man take most of his weight as his tongue explores every hot, smooth cranny of Jared’s delectable mouth.

Jared gives as good as he gets, manhandling Jensen into the house and kicking the door shut behind them to avoid any potential public indecency charges when his free hand slips underneath Jensen’s shirt and Jensen has to fight the urge to just rip it off Hulk-style.

“God, Jensen,” gets slurred against Jensen’s lips because he just can’t find the will to detach his mouth from Jared’s for a single second. “Killing me, baby.”

For a second there, that actually gets Jensen to stop; not because he actually wants to stop, like, ever, but because he brain fries to crispy little black bits on the sound of Jared – _Jared!_ – calling him ‘baby’. Unfortunately, the moment gives Jared an opening to start wasting those perfect, kiss-bitten lips on forming words.

“Wait, wait,” Jared pants, thumb creating a barrier against Jensen’s mouth to stave him off from more of the making out he was enjoying so much. Still, its Jared’s thumb, he can work with that. “We should go out to dinner or, or have a conversa- ngh!” Jared’s low, roughened voice breaks off on a high sound as Jensen sucks the offending digit into his mouth, enthusiastically learning the whorls and ridges and the slightly salty taste of his skin. “Damnit, Jen,” Jared moans, any heat in it betrayed by the hungry way Jared’s lips move over the thin skin of Jensen’s neck, “Shouldn’t rush into this. Really like you. Just came over to talk.” Anything else he might have to say gets lost in the process of Jared sucking a hot, red mark high up on Jensen’s throat so that anyone who cares to look will see it. Jensen’s whole body shudders at the realization. He has never in his whole life been harder than this.

Jensen only pries himself away from the avid attention he’s lavishing on Jared’s thumb when the man’s other hand finds a precarious hold in Jensen’s short hair and pulls him back.

“Find me a bed or we’re doing this here,” Jared growls, tossing his head in the general direction of their haphazard collection of living room furniture. Jensen would actually be more than ok with that option, even with the understanding that there’s a 98% of somebody walking in on them. Right now he just couldn’t care less. Still, it’s hard to deny anything snarled at him in that feral, wanton tone so instead of laying out on the floor and spreading like his aching balls are demanding, he nods frantically and grabs Jared’s hand, racing down the hallway, through the kitchen and into the back bedroom that Jensen calls his own.

The door’s barely clicked shut by the time he finds himself shoved up against it, the full weight of Jared’s lust battering at him like rocks on the shore. In a flash, Jared’s on his knees, lifting up Jensen’s grey ‘Venom’ shirt – yes, the one with the glitter that Danneel teases him about; he’s gay, he can pull it off, and look how well it’s working so far! - to lave a trail of kitten licks around his navel, down the dusting of hair arrowing lower.

“So gorgeous,” Jared breathes like a prayer, and Jensen would laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of _Jared_ saying that to _him_ , assuming that he was still holding up even a parody of breathing.

Then, breath be damned, because he’s lost all concept of language – Jared is unbuttoning Jensen’s fly. Jared Padalecki, Jensen’s own personal religion, the guy he’s made dozens of sketches of…

Oh shit. Jared’s here, in Jensen’s room, where he’s got multiple folders full of nothing but sketches and doodles and imaginings of Jared, including a fair few that involved some creativity on his part to fill in what Jared would look like naked. And hard. Yes, fine, Jensen draws his own Jared-porn, has for a while now; he’s been really fucking desperate, ok? And he’d never in a million years thought there was even a chance that Jared would be in his room and risk coming across any of it. Oh shit, how the hell do you explain to the guy you’re kind of a little bit in love with that you’re really not a terrifying stalker, you just like a little visual aid when you imagine him while jerking off. Oh this is bad, this is so fucking b-

Hhhnnnnnngh.

Christ, Jared’s mouth. Jared’s mouth, around Jensen’s dick. There needs to be shrines, and odes and epic ballads and _guh_! Jared’s fucking mouth!

It’s all molten, sucking heat, Jared’s tongue staying soft and pliant like a tease against the underside as he just lets his jaw slacken and encourages Jensen with moans and sucks to roll his hips forward. He hears a wet crackle as he feels the head hit the spongy back of Jared’s throat, the noise of him choking, but Jared refuses to pull off when Jensen tries to jerk back and release him, pushing himself forward until he’s taking most of Jensen in.

The feeling’s electric, sugar-sweet in Jensen’s veins, his head lolling uselessly against the door behind him. He feels like his whole body’s a spring, curling tighter and tighter around the surge-release of Jared’s mouth trying to milk the orgasm right out of him. Damn if it’s not working like a charm too. This is going to be over in an embarrassingly short amount of time, but Jensen’s already careening toward the cliff’s edge with no way or ambition to stop himself.

“Jared,” he gasps, “I can’t- I’m gonna- Oh fuck!” Sizzling heat snaps along his nerves, every one of them fraying into a hundred tendrils of shimmering sensation.

“Yeah, do it,” Jared strokes an open-mouth kiss over the head, slit dragging along the satiny inside of his lips, “Come for me, Jen.”

Realistically, Jared probably didn’t mean _right this second_ , but there’s no good way to argue with Jensen’s cock about that point at the moment, since it’s busy spurting thick, ropey strands of come all over Jared’s chin and down his neck. Jared’s eyes flutter shut on a moan and he arches into it like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt, letting the next pulse slide over his adam’s apple and down to pool in the hollow of his throat. The image just drags the feeling out longer, easily as effective as Jared’s hand expertly working him for every drop.

That’s… He’s…

Jensen slides down the door bonelessly, landing in Jared’s lap with a muffled thud. Jared laughs softly and accepts it when Jensen – physically trembling with satisfaction – reclaims him swollen mouth and smears the mess on his chin with deep, languorous kisses.

Jensen’s body seems to have more presence of mind than he does, grinding down obligingly against the insistent press of Jared’s dick, still trapped inside of his jeans.

“Do you want… I can…” he halfway offers, open to pretty much anything Jared might request. Jared bites gently at Jensen’s lips sucking on them in a way that’s nothing short of obscene and makes his soft dick jump longingly to be back in there. “God, fuck me,” he whispers, then shuts himself up by kissing Jared before he does anything else stupid like offering to bear Jared’s children.

Jared growls again, the sound vibrating against Jensen’s lips as one of those enormous hands clamps down on his exposed ass. “God, next time, baby. Not gonna last now. I gotta- fuck, just touch me.”

With a minimum of fumbling, Jensen wrestles Jared’s – monster; damn, he’d totally underestimated Jared, and he’d thought he was rounding up – cock free, forming a tight channel with his licked-wet hand for Jared’s restless hips to fuck up into. From this position he can feel every flex of Jared’s thighs, the leverage behind every stroke, the pleased twitch of his dick as Jensen tightens his grip around the head and he can just imagine what that would feel like sliding up into his body, pounding him stupid. What it _will_ feel like, because Jared had said next time; Jared wants to do this again. Jared had said he _liked_ Jensen.

Head thrown back, eyes clenched tight above the lazy, blissed out ‘o’ of his mouth – the image as Jared arches his come-splattered neck and finishes hard, pumping his release all over their clothed stomachs is going to be burned into Jensen’s retinas forever. If he had the will to get off of Jared’s lap or the muscle control to hold a pencil, he’d be compelled to get the picture down on paper, but as it is, he’s more than content to enjoy the live show.

Once their breathing has mostly returned to normal – hampered somewhat by Jared taking off his shirt to wipe away the mess Jensen had made of his neck and the inherent distraction cause by Jared being shirtless – they at last manage to tumble the few feet to the bed, Jensen shedding his shirt as well – it’s only fair. Jared - to Jensen’s unfailing surprise – seems to be just as enthusiastic about that point as Jensen had been about getting Jared half naked. Naturally, half naked devolves quickly into fully naked and Jensen’s beginning to wonder if maybe he’s had a rejection-induced psychotic break and all of this is just playing out in his head because every law of his established reality seems to contradict the idea of Jensen and Jared being naked and pressed up against each other in bed.

Still, that does seem to be Jared’s tongue, slick and wicked, teasing at his own, and Jared’s hot, velvety skin pressing him down into the mattress and Jared’s reluctantly hardening cock riding the bone of Jensen’s hip, so he really has no other choice than to conclude that, impossible as it is – THIS SHIT IS HAPPENING!

Jensen’s still busy with his mental victory dance when he hears the sound – the dooming sound of cowboy boots and stiletto heels on the linoleum floor of the kitchen and he can’t do anything fast enough to stop what he knows is about to happen.

“Hey, man, have you seen my-“ Chris starts before he’s even in the room. Jensen can hear the ancient knob rattle, the pin snicking backward because he’d been too preoccupied earlier to actually turn the lock, the sharp draw of breath when Chris sees them – and it’s a damn shame he’s going to have to murder Chris for seeing Jared naked; that’s really going to up the rent – and then, “Shit! Christ! Damnit, Jensen! Fucking lock your door!”

“Fucking knock, asshole!” he shouts back over the slam of wood-on-wood as Chris scrambles back out of the room.

Jared jumped enough when the door opened that he’s toppled off of Jensen and nearly off of the bed and now he’s just staring, one eyebrow quirking upward in slow-mo. Jensen fumbles to apologize for his idiot roommate, a sudden hard knot forming in the pit of his stomach that maybe Jared will decide that the ‘next time’ thing wasn’t such a good idea after all and, now that he has a chance to think about it, he’s realized that he’s light years out of Jensen’s league and…

Jared’s laughing; a very low, slowly building chuckle that makes his whole body plus the mattress shake slightly.

“You can yell!” Jared points out as though this is the most delightful discovery he’s ever made. He’s grinning ear to ear, dimples practically blinding and Jensen’s not really sure he gets the joke but it’s physically impossible not to smile back when you’ve got that aimed at you.

“Yeah,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck, beginning to find the humor in the situation now that Jared seems less likely to suddenly run out on him.

The taller man is still laughing softly, repositioning himself on the bed and leaning in for a kiss that Jensen wants more than food and water and shelter when his stupid, goddamn phone ding-dings. If it wasn’t so expensive that little bastard would be in itty bitty pieces now. With a groan, Jensen leans over to the nightstand and gets it, because if he doesn’t check the text it’s just going to keep dinging at him – cockblock – but, of course, it couldn’t be that easy.

Jared’s always been a little nosy. Jensen had discovered this fact one day when he’d accidentally left his sketchbook within Jared’s reach – he’s never been so thankful for his paranoid fear of keeping any of his drawing s of Jared in his school sketchpad – it’s just one of those things he’s learned to accept and love about Jared, the same way Jared knows and seemingly accepts Jensen’s need to spend thirty bucks a week on comic books. Apparently, Jared has no problem with bending personal boundaries on text messages either and thus ends up reading over Jensen’s shoulder as he squints his fuzzy vision to make out: **_Danneel_** _\- Chris says u have a hooker. U know u cant bring hookers to the house right? Please tell me Chris is wrong._

Jared bursts out laughing again as any hope Jensen had of ever getting laid again by this god of a man withers and dies before his eyes.

“I’ve never had sex with hooker,” Jensen promises urgently, grabbing hold of Jared’s arm to make sure the other man is paying attention even as he guffaws, “I’ve never even met a hooker as far as I know. My roommates are just idiots, I swear!” Idiots who are going to die a slow and painful death! See, this is a very valid argument for not having friends! He could be having sex with Jared right now if he didn’t have friends!

Jared’s hands come up to cup Jensen’s face, leaning in to kiss him softly in what he desperately hopes isn’t a goodbye.

“Relax,” Jared coos, “You’ve obviously never met Chad.”

Chad? Who’s Chad? And shit if Jared isn’t getting off the bed and, fuck, shimmying back into his pants. No, no, no! This is not how this was supposed to go!

“Seriously,” Jared continues as if he’s not crushing a portion of Jensen’s will to live as he does up the zipper on his jeans, bizarrely leaving to button undone, “Chad, my roommate, if he’d walked in on us just now, he’d have stuck around to ask you personally if you were a hooker and if you know any girl hookers he could get a phone number for.”

Jared opens up Jensen’s bedroom door with a grin – which is just mean; how dare he delight in walking out and leaving Jensen in shattered pieces – and strides out into the kitchen, sans shirt – admittedly, his is covered in come now – without looking back. It takes Jensen a second to figure out Jared also left his shoes. And those have to be his car keys there on the floor next to a wallet and a handful of change that definitely don’t belong to Jensen.

Wait, what?

Jensen at least schools himself into stumbling into some boxers before he goes tearing out of his room in pursuit, only to find Jared standing in the living room, introducing himself to a very dazed-looking Danneel.

“I’m Jared,” he extends a hand that’s big enough to hold both of Danneel’s, “Jensen’s boyfriend. Hopefully you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.”

“Dare to dream,” Danneel shakes his hand breathlessly, eyes skating over the acres of bare torso leading down to low-slung, still unbuttoned jeans. Jensen only manages to bite back the sudden possessive flush of annoyance at her because his brain got stuck on the word ‘boyfriend’ and hasn’t caught back up yet. “Wait, Jared?” Danneel blinks suddenly, wits apparently returned – Jensen can sympathize, Jared does that to him all the time – “Like, _Jared_ Jared?”

Jared laughs again, running a hand through his still slightly sweat-damp hair, “Jared Padalecki, actually.”

Danneel titters a laugh right back, then looks at Jensen, back to Jared, then Jensen again, asking with her eyes the question that Jensen desperately doesn’t want her to say out loud – Jared does not need to know about Jensen’s mostly-private obsession. He should never tell Danneel anything.

“Are you talking to the hooker?” Chris shouts through the door of his room. Jensen’s really, literally going to murder him.

“I’m not a hooker!” Jared shouts back gamely, in tandem with Jensen and Danneel’s yells of “He’s not a hooker!”

“Although, if you ever change your mind…” Danneel waggles her eyebrows at Jared, who grins back winsomely. That’s it; Jensen’s officially done with having friends.

“Hey!” he interjects in annoyance, taking an automatic step closer to Jared like he actually has a right to be jealous. Jared turns toward him, grin only growing brighter as he scoops an arm around Jensen’s shoulders and tugs him in close to plant a kiss on his forehead.

“Think I’m otherwise engaged at the moment,” Jared winks at Danneel, but there’s a softness in his voice, one that matches the look in his eyes when he locks them with Jensen’s. It’s mildly miraculous that Jensen can be a puddle of mush and still standing at Jared’s side at the same time.

Danneel clears her throat none too subtly and smirks, “Well, I’ll leave you boys to it then.” She gives Jensen an ecstatic thumbs up behind Jared’s back. Ok, maybe he’s not totally done with having friends.

The walk back to his room is a blur of his fingers interlaced with Jared’s, though he has a very clear memory of locking the door behind them this time before he lets himself be tugged into a kiss. It’s different this time, neither coaxing nor desperate, just warm and comfortable, settled in a way that seems bizarre considering that not an hour ago Jensen was lying in this room lamenting how Jared could never possibly want him.

“Boyfriend?” he blurts the word against Jared’s lips the moment it keys back in with his brain. Jared had definitely, absolutely called himself Jensen’s boyfriend.

Jared ducks his head and actually looks sheepish. “Yeah,” he says quietly, and Jensen would swear the taller man sounds nervous, “I kinda went out on a limb there. A really big limb, I guess. Is… Is it a bad limb?”

His hazel eyes are shining with hopeful hesitation, butterfly lashes swooping down like a flirt that Jensen in no way needs to know exactly the right answer to this question.

“It’s a great limb. Really awesome limb.”

Jared’s smile could give him a sunburn if it wasn’t immediately swallowed up in another kiss, breaking just long enough to get them back to naked and laid out on the bed without any permanent dental damage before they’re at it again.

A part of him wants to ask Jared if he’s sure, if he realizes that Jensen’s, well, Jensen, but another part of him figures that if Jared can survive Jensen’s inability to talk around him and his comicbook obsession and the clothes and the glasses and the crazy roommates, then he can probably handle the rest of the package too. Either way, he decides, as Jared’s fingers tease along the curve of his hip, mouth busy sucking a mark to Jensen’s chest, it’s going to be a hell of a good time finding out.


End file.
